Catalyst
by Proteus Unbound
Summary: A oneshot looking into when the whole Sawyer/Juliet romance started.


Activation energy: a term introduced in 1889 by the Swedish scientist Svante Arrhenius, that is defined as the energy that must be overcome in order for a chemical reaction to occur.

* * *

Two years, 3 months, and 18 days after they moved to the 70s and five years, seven months, and 4 days since she stepped off of the sub, everything changes.

"We have news," Amy declares in the mess, smiling at Horace, and even before she says the words Juliet _knows_, she just knows, and automatically she's back, back to something that hasn't even happened yet, and she can feel Rachel's arms around her, she can hear the words.

"I'm pregnant."

Amy and Rachel say the same words at the same time and suddenly she's not thinking about Julian. Or Rachel. Or anything, really. The words register in her mind and her hands are shaking and her chest tightens and _oh God_, she's not breathing properly.

"Juliet?"

It's his voice, full of concern, that brings her back, so that she manages a smile and chokes out "Congratulations," before excusing herself, trying not to appear over-dramatic.

The fresh air helps a little, but not enough. Breathing calmed slightly, she makes her way to the dock, staring at her hands, remembering the flatlines, _her _failures, the fathers raging, screaming that this is all her fault that their beloved is dead and their child is dead, dead, all of them, all dead--

And then James is there, someone alive, breathing, blood and flesh, everything intact.

"Hey, hey," he says falling into step with her as she paces on the dock, voice too calm, too soft. Didn't she used to do this all the time around him, in order to calm him down? "Take it easy."

She stops, turns and looks at him, trying to focus on him and not the symptoms in her mind (_3 months before the constant nausea happens, 15 weeks before loss of consciousness, 16 before she's going to be called to operate)_. After a while it seems to work. "Pregnant women," she says slowly, carefully enunciating so she can focus on the syllables instead, "They don't survive here."

He nods, and she knows that he already knows this, so why is she telling him, now?

She used to be better at this, blocking the images out, not saying things, back before him, back before Jack, when it had just been Ben, making a sandbox out of her mind.

Her mind quickly shies away from that, however. If anything, thinking about Jack is worse than this, and Ben—well, what would he say?

She knows exactly what he'd say, but she's not going to remember, not now. "We have to get her off the Island."

He shakes his head, and she hates him for an instant before realizing that the man in front of her isn't Ben. "Juliet, we can't do that."

She barks out a laugh, and it's harsher than she expects. "Sure we can," she replies, gesturing toward the empty waters. "Sub's coming in a week, we'll put her on it, and then," she concentrates on breathing for a few seconds, "She'll be fine."

He tries to hug her, but she pulls away, steps back, suddenly exhausted, dead tired. He can't be understanding and sympathetic right now. He needs to argue and be angry with her so her walls can come back up, so she doesn't have to think and can just rely on instinct.

He doesn't argue and isn't angry, just worried, so she sinks down onto the wood. "I want to go home," she says, aware of just how small, how vulnerable her voice sounds, "Please, can we just go?"

There's no reply, but after a while she realizes that there's hand on her back, rubbing gently.

* * *

That night she has a dream.

She gets a call to help Amy, and so she goes to the infirmary on the Island—except the infirmary on the Island turns out to be a hospital in Miami and Rachel is there instead of Amy and Ben is there again instead of the doctor. She can't save Rachel and Jack is there, disappointed, so disappointed, and there's blood, all over her hands.

"Juliet!"

She wakes up. "You were having a nightmare," James says.

* * *

It's a lie, but she nods anyway and listens when he tells her that Daniel had disappeared again.

They end up in the jungle, calling out Daniel's name, just the two of them, because James made some cock-and-bull excuse to Horace about not wanting to upset the entire group again.

They're alone, with James up front, and her behind, getting his back (_always, absolutely_), when a razorback boar (_sow_, she realizes in an instant) charges out from nowhere.

She reacts on instinct, and 4 seconds later the boar is dead, jugular slit by a knife she didn't even know was there, and her hands, they're dripping with blood.

_Pig's blood_, she realizes, mouth twisting as she thinks about the irony of reminiscing about a book she didn't even know existed yet.

Moments later Sawyer bursts from the foliage, but all she can do is stare at her hands. Shakespeare had written something about this, she knows. Bloody spots, they never leave the hands of the guilty.

"Boar charged me," she says, her voice coming from behind a thick wall. The blood, it's all over.

"I know," he replies, "Let's go back, get you cleaned up."

"We have to look for Daniel," her voice objects, though she's pretty sure her lips hadn't moved.

"He can wait," he says quietly, and she can picture his face and expression perfectly without even thinking about it: worried/sympathetic/sad. "Juliet."

She goes.

* * *

He gets her to change and wash her hands, but the blood is still there, under her fingernails, so he goes into the washroom with her like she's seven and can't wash properly and turns on the water again.

"I can't tell you about it," a voice says. Who is that, she wonders. The voice, it's an octave higher and more broken than a voice should ever sound. "I can't tell you."

Oh God. It's _her._

"It's okay," he says.

She shakes her head, finally meeting his eyes. "No," she hears herself say, "No, it really isn't."

He bends down, and the kiss, it's the realest thing she's felt for a long time. "It's okay," he repeats.

This time, she believes him.

* * *

A substance that modifies the transition state to lower the activation energy is termed a catalyst.


End file.
